Autumn speaks to the quieter undercurrent in me. In Winter, I am moving and huddled and longing for intimacy and connection in the coldness. In Spring, I branch out with a sense of vitality, confidence, almost arrogant pregnancy. In Summer, I buzz around speedily and energetic fervor….But autumn, with its layers and light and ambiguous giving, I am keen. present. aware.
Odd that I’ve recently had no essential urge to record my thoughts here. In the past, I itched to stamp my experiences, both internal and external into this space. I craved a controlled sharing. Yet now, with my life full of connections, varied in their level of knowing, stretched across different spans of distance and history, I no longer NEED this treatment. Sometimes I want it. Sometimes I continue to be enlightened by what I produce. But my promiscuous weavings have waned.
There is no, “the truth is, my life has changed” my life has always changed. I’ve just nourished different avenues for the unending hunger in me. To be known, to known, to be heard, seen, felt and honestly, I am getting more back from my life than I have in the past.
Like an adolescent abandoning her journal for a new social group, my source of nourishment has shifted. And I am discovering more about myself outside of myself than in…
Plus, do you feel like everyone has a blog now? Somehow, my voice is a bit drowned out and there is less of a “special” ness about this avenue, or my feelings toward it, that I engineered three plus years ago.
And have you noticed that I also have almost abandoned my 101 list (although I am SO close…West Virginia I still need a post card from you!) and I see so many other people’s blogs full of pretty photos and gorgeous recipes, and meeting up or conferences with other bloggers. There is a twinge of “not enoughness” provoked in me sometimes when I take the 20 minutes to surf. If I do this thing, I want 50 comments. I want the audience. I want to be worthy of it.
“There are two things you can be sure of in life and how you handle them will determine your success. One is interaction and the other is change.”
Don’t get me wrong. I am more than resilient. Curious from the crib, my heart strives and seeks and does not yield to stress but groans for exploration. This is change on my own terms. I am the captain of the ship.
But change from the outside, even when expected, sometimes continues to put me at unease. I lean into the light changing. I read more. I breathe the smell of firewood and roasting apple.
I don’t really know where the current is heading. But something changed here a while ago. And I am half comfortable with it.